Upside down
by DobbyHasMySocks
Summary: Clary Fray thinks she has it all. Popular, athletic and savvy, her quick wit is renowned. But will the arrival of a golden boy, as well as a reminder of her dark past, an ominous history that haunts her, turn her entire life uspide down?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! Ok, so this is my first fan fiction, pretty much my first time writing anything. I've had this idea for a while, and I wanted to write something fun, where Clary has a bit of attitude. **

**Just a note- the characters are OOC and all human.**

**It would be great if anyone reading this could review; praise, encouragement, constructive criticism, whatever! Any kind of feedback would be really helpful to me as a writer, so I know how to improve.**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare is an amazing author, and I definitely do not own the characters or TMI series!**

**Anyway, on with the story!**

Clary Fray was queen of the school. And here at the Institute, where the Order was everything, everyone knew it. They parted around her as she strutted into the school, her co-rulers Izzy, her brother Alec, and Simon and either elbow. The younger students who were effectively nobodies tried to hide, pressed against their lockers and hoping they wouldn't be seen. The wannabe-popular girls glared at them enviously. The jocks called and wolf whistled appreciatively. Clary smiled to herself as she watched Izzy handle them. She always thought that this was Izzy's favourite part of being in the 'it' crew; she strolled casually but purposefully down the hall, her high heeled boots clacking on the polished marble floor, waving at the boys and occasionally holding her fingers to her ear and mouthing _call me_. Clary plastered her trademark slightly cocky, slightly sexy grin on her face and tossed her fiery hair behind as her shoulder as she continued to march into the Institute. Despite the fact that it was still school, she loved this place.

The shrill noise of the morning bell reverberated down the hallway. Clary turned to Simon and Alec, who were joking around in front of the lockers. "Where are you guys first? We have to have at least a _few _classes together this year." They shrugged, and handed their timetables to Clary, who examined them and scowled. "Damn, only third and fifth. Maths and US history. Well, see you guys later." She turned back to Izzy, who was busy flirting with a nerd who thought he had a shot with her, standing out the front of her locker. But Clary knew better. Izzy was famous for it. She was a one night, move on kind of girl. She toyed with boys hearts then tore them out and walked all over them in high-heeled boots. Clary grabbed her elbow and towed her down the hallway.

"Whoah, whoah, what's the rush? It's only class!" Izzy protested indigently.

Clary rolled her eyes. "First day of school Izzy, no toying with the boys." Izzy set her red lip-sticked lips into a pout. Clary sighed. "Come on, I thought we had this sorted by the end of last year. You know how important the Order is here. Right now, we are at the top. We want to stay at the top. And, while I'll admit your one-night-stand thing with my hard-to-get-ness makes us a pretty dynamic pair, flirting with the dregs of this place is so going to drag us down."

Seeing that Izzy was about to interject, Clary put her hand over her friend's mouth and continued. "Remember our rule, Izzy? I know you do. No-one above thirty. Forty, for a stretch. Anyone above those numbers in the Order, is effectively nobody. I don't care if they're cute. We rule here, and everyone had better know it."

And with that, Clary turned on her heel and headed down the nearly deserted hallway. But not before Izzy got her say. "You know what they say, Clary." She called, tossing her waist length midnight-black hair over her shoulder, her blue eyes glinting mischievously. "Every ruler has to fall."

Clary sauntered into the classroom, late as usual. It wouldn't do well for her image to be on time like a teacher's pet. Her first class was chemistry, and while she would never let anyone know it, she actually didn't mind the class. She was far from being a genius like Simon, but at least she did okay. Her teacher, Mr Starkweather, wasn't too bad, either. He was a middle aged man, and reminded Clary slightly of a raven, with his beak like nose and tufty hair. He wasn't as cranky as some of the other teachers, but the thing Clary liked best about him was the fact that he seemed to accept she was always going to be late to class.

"Ahh, Miss Fray, nice of you to join us."

Clary gave an angelic smile to her teacher as she made her way to her seat at the back of the class. "It's nice to be here sir." She scored a few sniggers from her classmates, which was what she was hoping for, before she dropped her fluoro green schoolbag onto the floor under her desk and reclined casually in her chair. Mr Starkweather was going on with the usual it's-the-first-day-of-school-now-you-have-responsibilities-blah-blah-blah speech that they all heard at least ten times on the first day back from summer break, every single year. Clary couldn't help her mind wandering, back to her conversation with Izzy. She mentally groaned. At this school, the Idris Institute for Excellence, the Order was everything. The Order was basically where everyone sat in the popularity rankings. Everyone who was anyone had a number, and Clary was definitely number one. She had been a contender for the top ever since she arrived at the school in her sophomore year, and had slowly climbed until she owned the place. It hadn't been easy, though. She had honed her attitude and sharp tongue that she inherited from her mother until she could take anyone down. Now, what she said went.

Clary often wondered if her sharp attitude had anything to do with what went on at home. Or at least, what used to happen. Even there, in the warm classroom, Clary shuddered as a swarm of horrific memories threatened to engulf her. She still remembered every detail, even from all those years ago…

_A six year old Clary hopped eagerly through the front door to her apartment, wiping her muddy shoes before she entered. Today had been a good day, it was the first day back at school and Clary had made a new best friend. She could barely contain her excitement as she skipped through her mum's art room and into the living room, her backpack bouncing against her shoulder blades. Her mum was always happy when she had good news from school, and Clary couldn't wait to tell her about today. "Hey mum, guess what? Guess what, guess what, guess what?" Clary sung as she walked into the kitchen. "I made a new-" But she cut off as soon as she saw what was in front of her. The first thing she noticed was her mother, lying horribly still on the white tiled floor. Her vibrant red hair was fanned out around her head like a halo, contrasting against her ivory pale skin. The second thing Clary noticed was the man standing over her. He towered over the both of them, and in Clary's young eyes, was downright terrifying. Pale, almost white hair fell into his eyes, which were black as midnight. He jumped as he noticed the small red head standing in the doorway. Clary could feel a flush creeping up her pale, freckled cheeks, a flush of anger at this man who was standing over what she thought was the dead form of her mother. "Who are you? What… what did you do to my mummy?" Tears tracked down her face, and she angrily dashed them away with a clenched fist. She wouldn't cry in front of this man. The man turned to face her. His eyes raked up and down her body, scrutinising every aspect of her, from her mass of red curls to the paint splattered shirt she was wearing, her favourite one with the butterflies on it, to her pale, skinny legs and her old green sketchers. "You must be Clarissa." He intoned. "I am Valentine. Your father."_

The shrill ring of the bell signalled the end of first period, breaking Clary out of her reverie. She noticed suddenly that she was trembling, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. _It's okay, _she tried to reassure herself, _it's over. Mum has Luke now. He's gone, long gone._ She stood from her seat, threw her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the classroom, bringing up her strong mental walls again, the walls that no one could break through.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. The only thing exciting that happened was when Clary passed the noticeboard on the way to lunch, and saw an announcement for swim team try outs tacked over the other posters. Clary couldn't wait; swimming was her favourite thing on earth, even in front of art. She signed her name immediately and made a mental note to show up at the school's pool the next day after school.

But, swimming announcements aside, the rest of the day was mundane as far as days went. Clary was relieved when she stepped off her bus and walked up street to the apartment she lived in with her mother and step-dad, Luke. She was still pretty shaken up from that morning. It had been forever since she'd lost control like that; let her walls come down long enough for the memories to claim her.

The building they lived in was old, or antique, as Clary's mother said. The walls were a weather-washed white, paint peeling off and mould growing in the sections that didn't get much sun. A cobbled path led through a garden full of weeds and rosebushes and up to a set of brick steps and an oaken front door. Inside was always dim, there weren't many windows and the skylight was covered in leaves and grime. Clary held her breath like usual as she passed the door on the first landing. It belonged to a batty old woman who called herself Madam Dorothea. She was supposed to be a witch or something, but whenever Clary had been into her apartment all she had seen were a few glass balls, tea cups and an old record player that was always playing some kind of Egyptian music. And the whole place smelled weird, like flowers and mothballs.

Clary scaled the old staircase and arrived at the floor her apartment was on. She retrieved the spare key from the potted plant that sat in front of the door, and let herself in. Grabbing a muesli bar from the kitchen, she headed straight for her room and shut the door. The bang echoed through the empty apartment, seeming to threaten Clary, let her know she was alone. Clary flopped onto her bed and rubbed the heels of her hand against her eyelids. She was exhausted, mentally and physically. Before she knew it, the memories suffocated her again.

_Clary was lying face down behind the couch in her pyjamas, trying to quieten her frenzied breathing. It was late, she knew she should be asleep, but a noise from the living room had woken her up. It wasn't the first time it happened, but tonight Clary had quietly snuck out of bed to investigate. Now, crouching behind the couch, she wished she hadn't._

_From over the other side of the room, she could hear sobbing. She knew it was her mother, and the sound terrified her. Mothers weren't supposed to cry, right? They were supposed to be brave, handle anything, be strong and hold up the world. Even against really horrible fathers. Clary could hear Valentine pacing up and down the living room floor, his footsteps beating a rhythm, like a heartbeat. Like Clary's heartbeat, which was racing a million metres a second. "You're disgusting." He snarled. Clary's mother's sobbing grew more intense, terrified moans escaping her mouth. "No, please don't Valentine, no, no, PLEASE!" Clary covered her ears as her mother's voice grew to a shrill, horrified scream. But she still heard the solid thud as Valentine's foot connected with her mother's side. And she still heard her mother's scream, a heart-piercing cry of pain and misery. Clary was drowning in what she heard and in tears, tears that wouldn't stop even when she knew that they would give her away, because she was suffocating and she couldn't find the surface._

A loud beeping noise woke Clary from her nightmare. Puzzled, she sat up in bed and yawned. Had she fallen asleep? Clary glanced at the clock beside her bedside table, and jumped out of bed like a firecracker had been let off underneath her. Izzy would be by to pick her up for school in fifteen minutes, and she wasn't even properly awake yet. Running to her chest of drawers, Clary quickly grabbed an appropriate 'I'm popular' set of clothes- tiny denim shorts held up with a leopard print belt and a sheer white top over a black singlet. She pulled on her favourite pair of knee-high black boots and hid her tired eyes behind a pair of sunnies. With ten minutes to go, Clary judged she had just enough time to straighten the fiery jungle that was her hair and scoop it up into a messy bun held in place with pins. A loud honk sounded from outside. Clary rushed to the small window overlooking the road out the front of the apartment block and saw Izzy sitting in her yellow VW. "I'm coming!" She called, and, grabbing an apple on her way out, scooped up her school bag and bolted out of the apartment.

Izzy had to stop for petrol so by the time they pulled up in the school car park the bell had already rung and people were already on their way to class. They hadn't talked about much in the car, just some new cute guy in Izzy's algebra class called Magnus. Clary hadn't really been listening all too attentively, she was more focussed on how to bring up the topic she'd been wanting to have a serious talk to Izzy about since, well, since Izzy had been Izzy. As they slammed the car doors and speed-walked up the path to the school's front gates, Clary decided she couldn't put it off any longer.

"Hey, Izzy, about what we were talking about before…"

Izzy's eyes lit up the way they always did when there was as much as a mention of a boy in a conversation. "You mean Magnus? I totally think-"

"No, no," Clary cut her off, rolling her green eyes skyward. "Not that he doesn't sound cool or anything. It's just… I mean yesterday, about, you know, the Order?"

Izzy let out an exasperated laugh and held a hand to her brow, scout-style. "It's okay," she joked. "I, Isabelle Lightwood, solemnly swear not to go near any _nobodies, _no matter how hot they might be…"

Clary, slightly impatiently, cut her off again. "That's hardly necessary. No, what I mean is… I don't know how to put this, but really I _need _to, well stay up there, at the top that is…"

The rest of Clary's sentence was cut off by the warning bell, and Izzy smiled and made her way down the other hallway. "How about you tell me at break, I have a really nasty chem teacher. I'd really rather not push my luck second day of term." Izzy said, and entered her classroom.

Sighing to herself, Clary continued walking through the school to her chemistry class. She'd been about to tell Izzy about her real reason she needed to be top of the Order here, the real reason she had her kilometre-thick mental walls that tightly enclosed the vulnerable part of her mind. Why she might break if that was torn away from her. As she pushed open the heavy door to her classroom, Clary shook her head vigorously to clear it and criticised her weakness. The reason she had those mental walls, she reminded herself, was to keep people out. And she was comfortable with it staying that way. Taking only a second to compose herself, Clary stepped into the classroom. Her face was a mask again, steadily set into the look that the school knew Clary Fray for- the popular, hard to get queen of the school who everyone both loved and hated. Loved, because she was their ruler. Hated, because there were many who wanted her position.

Mr Starkweather was in the middle of a lecture and didn't notice Clary sneaking in the classroom to her seat at the back. Clary smiled wryly. That was always her seat. Even though the classroom had rows of two-seater desks, everyone knew to leave this desk for Clary, even if all the other desks were occupied. She slid casually into her chair and extracted her books from her bag. She attempted to focus at least slightly on what Mr Starkweather was saying about electron structures and reactions, tapping her pen on her cheek thoughtfully. Even though it was only the second day, school was pretty much back to normal. The kids were back in the pattern, the teachers had hatched their 'education' plans, and the Order was settled. But Clary had no idea how much that was all about to change when a golden haired boy pushed open the classroom and flashed an insouciant grin at the teacher.

"Sorry I'm late sir. I got lost."

**Thanks for reading this far! Please, reviews are like gold!**

**So anyway, I'm guessing everyone can guess who 'golden haired boy' is? Sparks will fly when they meet in the next chapter. Also, the next chapter will see some intros to some of the other characters I kind of skimmed over here- Simon, Alec, Magnus etc. **

**OK, until I update again, thanks for reading!**

**-ApproachingDarkness**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, thanks to reviewers for the last chapter, and also to everyone who added this to story alert! It makes me feel bad for taking ages to write this chapter, especially because the only reason for it taking so long is because I'm lazy. Anyway, chapter two is finally done, please review!**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare completely owns all the characters and the Mortal Instruments series!**

Mr Starkweather barely looked up at the new arrival. "You must be Mr Herondale. Well, welcome to advanced chemistry, take a seat."

Clary was too shocked to realise that the only spare seat in the classroom was next to her. She, like every other girl in the class, was intently staring and this Mr Herondale. Clary couldn't help but think he looked like an angel, golden hair, sharp, angular face and startling golden eyes that shone like suns as they scanned the classroom. A very _bad _angel, that is. He tossed his hair out of his eyes and he sauntered up the aisle with his hands in his pockets, and Clary half expected to see sparks fly from it. He was wearing simple enough clothes; dark skinnies and a black shirt, but they suited him so well that he was far from underdressed. Clary jumped when his bag landed next to hers on the floor with a thud, and he sat in the vacant chair at her desk. She hadn't realised that of course he would have to sit here, and something tugged at her gut for a second before it as gone. That pulled Clary out of her stupor, what was wrong with her? Queen of the school and gazing at some new-kid nobody? She was definitely slipping. Making a mental note to sort out her mental walls or whatever was wrong with her, she turned her gaze to his face again, and opened her mouth to say something. But then she was lost again, his eyes were so beautiful close up, iridescent and gleaming, incomparable to even suns, because surely suns couldn't shine that brightly. They were like pools of liquid gold, shining with all the life in the universe; they were… staring right at her.

"Finished admiring me yet?" He smirked.

Years of practice meant that Clary didn't even have to think about a response before it came out.

"Haven't you ever heard that modesty is an admirable trait?"

"Only from ugly people," he smirked, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head.

Clary tried not to notice that it made the tight muscles of his chest stand out more.

"Maybe, but one can see their point." She smiled wryly, and turned to go back to her work. "Now, if you insist at sitting at _my _table, and I can't stress how key the '_my' _is, then you'd better at least help with the work."

He placed a long-fingered hand on shoulder, warm against her bare skin. "Why work when we can have fun?" He breathed.

Clary smiled enticingly and leaned in, her breath ticking his ear, as she whispered "Because I assume you like your pretty little face arranged the way it is." She winked and shrugged his hand off her shoulder. Relishing in the stunned look on his face, she completed the act by slamming her textbook down on the table, making him jump. Clary smiled sweetly. "Maybe if you're a good boy, I won't rearrange it for you."

She turned back to her workbook, trying to send the message that she wasn't interested. Unfortunately, he didn't take the hint.

"I'm a very good boy," he whispered, making the hairs on the back of Clary's neck stand up. Despite the rational side of her brain lecturing her about the Order and respect and all that, she couldn't help the reaction. And she mentally cursed herself for it.

"I'm Jace. Nice to meet you. Now this is where you tell me your name and be all friendly and nice. You know, 'coz we're nice people." His tone was sarcastic, his face set in a cool smirk.

"I'm Clary. Get used to that name. You'll hear it a lot." Another sweet smile, and Clary turned back to her work again.

"Well that wasn't very nice…" She heard Jace mumble. She decided she had him figured out. Good looking, cocky, arrogant, he'd be a contender for the Order. Clary resolved to keep an eye on him. Her train of thought was cut off by Mr Starkweather announcing that their current seats would now be their permanent ones, and that they would receive assignments, to be completed with their partners. Clary both internally groaned and leaped in excitement. Jace Herondale would be dangerous, but interesting to crack.

Lunch break came around all too slowly, in Clary's opinion. Already that day she had received three homework assignments, and she wasn't in the best mood as she strolled into the school cafeteria. It was a large room, with white walls and a white tiled floor. On one side, glassed windows looked over the school's sports field and indoor swimming complex, and on the other, a small courtyard decorated with tables, and then down to the lake that was used for canoeing in the warm months. Clary grabbed a tray and walked up to the already lengthy line up for food. She smiled as students moved aside to give a path directly to the front of the line. Clary grabbed a tub of yoghurt and a wrap, and then headed straight for the open glass doors leading to the breezy courtyard. Izzy and Simon were already at their usual table, shaded by a small alcove of sweeping willows and providing a scenic view of the lake. As she approached, Izzy threw her head back in laughter as Simon blushed and adjusted his glasses. Clary took a seat opposite Simon and bit into her wrap. "What's so funny?" She asked Izzy.

Izzy put her palm to her forehead and attempted to control a fit of giggles. "Well," she started, "there's this girl in Simon's advanced algebra class called Maia, you know, from your swim team, and Simon… Simon…" But what she said next was unintelligible as she descended once again into uncontrollable laughter.

"What my sister is trying to say is that her asked her out and, inevitably, was rejected." Clary looked up as Alec sat down at their table and bit into an apple. "It was miserable; I know, I was there," he smirked, as Simon groaned and face-palmed.

Clary rolled her eyes skyward. "You're as bad as Izzy, Si!" Simon glared at her and Izzy stopped laughing to give an indigent "Hey!"

"Well, it's true-"

Clary was cut off by Izzy's eyes widening and her pitch rising noticeably as she announced; "Cute guy at three o' clock!" Izzy immediately whipped out her handbag and touched up her lip gloss in the reflection on the back of her spoon.

Clary glanced over to where Izzy was referring to; the cafeteria doors, and was only marginally surprised to see Jace holding a tray and walking confidently in their direction. Girls darted up to him as he passed, and wrote on his arm with markers before blowing kisses and returning, giggling, to where they sat. Clary watched him draw closer with equal parts concern and curiosity. It was blindingly obvious that he was going to shake up the Order of the school, but that was what intrigued her. And, Clary reluctantly admitted, there was a bit of excitement mixed in there as well. He reached their table and sat in the only empty seat- the one next to Clary.

"Well, look who we have here." He said. He reached his arms behind his head and folded his hands, clearly relaxed- which was the opposite to the ambient mood of the rest of the occupants of the table. Simon and Alec were staring at him, puzzled looks on their faces, and Izzy was concentrating on pouting while she chewed her salad.

"You know, I did a bit of research during class, and I found that you guys pretty much own this place. Funny that."

Clary frowned at him. "Funny, how?"

"Oh, nothing, I just didn't see you as the kind of person who was at the top of the popularity rankings." He smirked.

Clary asked, "What do you mean by that, exactly?" at the same time that Izzy asked, maybe a little too forcefully, "You know Clary?"

Jace grinned at them both. "Yes, Clary and I are wonderful friends in chemistry, partners actually. We definitely have something going." He ignored Clary opening her mouth to interrupt, and continued. "And answering your question, I just didn't think you're the right kind of person. You need to be more like me. You're not cocky enough." And with that, he stood and walked back up the slope to the cafeteria.

Simon's jaw was nearly on the ground. "Who the hell was _he?_"

Clary rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Some jerk I got stuck with in chemistry. He thinks he owns the place."

Izzy stopped staring at Jace's retreating form to point out, "He might do just that, soon. He's definitely arrogant enough. And _hot."_

Clary shook her head silently, and folded her arms across her chest. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of Jace; he was a study in comparisons. Not to mention his head was big enough to lift him to Mars. Tuning out from Simon and Alec teasing Izzy about Jace, she once again arrived back at her decision to keep an eye on him.

The rest of Clary's classes passed pretty quickly, due to two things on Clary's mind- one, that she couldn't wait for swim team tryouts that afternoon, and two, whenever she walked into her classes, her eyes flitted around the room quickly, searching for a golden head. It turned out that the only other class she shared with Jace was maths, which she also had with Simon and Alec. Their teacher, Mrs Imogen, insisted that they sat in alphabetical order, meaning that Simon Lewis and Alec Lightwood were lucky enough to end up next to each other anyway, and Clary was stuck next to not-even-double-digits-in-the-Order Delia 'Lumberjack' Frith, who was known to literally consume pencils in class. But what bugged her most about that class was the fact that Jace Herondale was seated next to Kaelie Illis. Kaelie had never been Clary's friends. From the day Clary had arrived at the Institute and knocked Kaelie from the top spot, Kaelie had resorted to the crudest measures to reclaim her shattered dignity. She'd pulled juvenile pranks on Clary; messing with her locker, spreading rumours, and then had resorted to sleeping around with anyone who would. Clary could see her flirting with Jace, probably trying to lead him where she had led so many other guys. Something tugged in Clary's gut- no, of course she wasn't _jealous. _Why would she be jealous? She barely knew Jace, and anyway, she probably should be distancing herself as much as possible. The higher she climbed, the further she'd have to fall, after all. What if he did take the Order from her? What would she do then, huh? Clary realised she was arguing with herself, and straightened her mental walls, tuning out the rest of the classroom to go back to at least trying to focus on their maths work.

When the final bell rang that afternoon, Clary was the first to leave the classroom. Swimming, at last. Over the summer break, Clary hadn't had much time for swimming, what with her mum and Luke getting married and everything. He was almost twitching at the thought of diving back into the beautiful, beautiful water. She smiled as she remembered her first swim team tryouts at the Institute. She'd annihilated the competition then, and every year since. Her team had made it to the state and national finals for the past two years, and her fame in the pool had been a major factor for her climbing the ranks of the Order.

The school's indoor swimming stadium was one of the many extra-curricular additions to the school's grounds. Outside, the stadium was huge with a curving roof and an entrance wide enough to let in huge crowds. Inside, was an Olympic-standard fifty metre pool, a warm up pool, a diving pool, and stands that could seat hundreds. Clary breathed in deeply as she entered the glassed entrance, inhaling the rich smell of chlorine. She headed straight for the change rooms, waving to their swim coach, Mr Lightwood, who was also Alec and Izzy's dad. The rest of her girls relay team was already inside. Maia Roberts was their first swimmer, and had been for all the years that Clary had been on the swim team. Clary liked Maia, with her browned skin and dark hair. She was more the image of a typical swimmer, tall with broad shoulders and muscular, whereas Clary was shorter and slimmer. Their second swimmer was Aline Penhallow, a new addition to the team only last year. She was fast though, and deserved her spot on the A team. Clary didn't know her all too well; she was pretty shy and didn't say much. The position of third swimmer was to be decided today; their previous teammate, Camille Belcourt, had left at the end of last year. And of course, Clary was the team's anchor.

Her teammates waved and smiled as she walked in, which Clary returned, before returning to their conversation. Clary changed into her sleek black racing skins, and tucked her hair under an emerald green nationals cap. One of the reasons she loved swimming was that when she dived in the water, her mind cleared completely, except for those essential reminders about keeping her body streamlined, her head down, her kick high, her hands cupped. Everything else was just let go, as quickly and as easily as the bubbles flitting to the surface when she dived in. She was anticipating releasing her thoughts on the Order, her troubles caused by the flashbacks of her father, the tension she'd been feeling over the past few days, and once again concentrating on her body moving through the water.

Clary was almost bouncing on the balls of her feet as she left the change room, a smile irrevocably plastered on her face, seeming to almost float above the ground as she joined the group around the pool. And then Jace Herondale strode out of the boy's change room.

**Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it; if you did, if you didn't, please review! Anyway, hopefully I'll get chapter three done a bit quicker and post it soon-ish.**

**- ApproachingDarkness**


	3. Chapter 3

**Finally! Sorry for taking so long, now that it's summer I have sport most days, and between swimming (yay swimming :D), school and homework, as well as general laziness, I haven't had much time for typing this. Yes, blame me entirely. I'm just lazy like that.**

**Anyway, this chapter is from Jace's point of view. It shows a bit into his head, and his dark and scary past as well. You didn't think he'd be all shiny inside and out, did you? Hope you like it, please review!**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns everything remotely related to the MI series!**

The clock's ticking was drilling against Jace's brain, seeming as if it was trying to force out all sense of sanity. The teacher at the front of the classroom was droning on and on, sounding like an angry hornets nest. Jace put his palm against his forehead and tried to block out the noises, and focus on what had been bugging him since that morning. Clary. The vibrant little redhead, queen of the school, sarcastic, confident. Why was she even on his mind? Sure, he went for girls, especially the ones who were… _pleasing _to the eye, but Clary wasn't really his type. She was too confident, outgoing, and self-respecting. On the outside, anyway. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that everyone was perfect, inside and out, and he'd learnt the hard way that the ones who were bright and shiny on the outside, were often dull and broken on the inside. He didn't even want to give a thought to his messed up family. Maybe he felt some sort of deep, emotional connection to the little redhead, after all, cynical equalled shattered. Like him. As soon as that thought crossed his mind though, he sneered at himself. _Deep, emotional connection? Please. _The only reason he was thinking about her was because she was in his way. He knew that he needed to be the one at the top. His ways of coping, of finding his own life where he could escape his broken family, revolved around him being sarcastic, confident. A player. Was it any other way, and he'd break. He'd be torn down, crumble, a tower robbed of its foundation. This was the only way he knew how to survive, and if a certain redhead was in his path, if he had to tear _her _down, then so be it.

Last period was like slow torture for Jace. Like having splinters shoved under his fingernails, like being slowly dismembered, like being tied over a sprout of bamboo and letting it grow through him. Actually, no. He'd take any of those over forty minutes of last period English class, any day. He wasn't even holding the pretence of paying attention; his chair was facing the back of the room, his feet resting on the empty desk in the row behind, while he fiddled with the buttons on his phone. The teacher, facing the whiteboard at the front of the classroom, hadn't noticed yet. The back of her head, bleached stringy white hair in a lopsided bob, and her strange ensemble of clothes was visible to the class, while she talked on and on about some hell-forbidden thing or another. At least half the class apart from Jace wasn't paying attention, and were quietly chatting amongst themselves. Jace scrolled through the messages on his sleek black phone and discovered that he had on from Sebastian, among the several thousand from girls who had mysteriously received his number. Opening it, it read _See you at swim tryouts this arvo. Don't forget, jerk. _He smirked, and keyed in a response. Seb was one of the first friends he'd made at the Institute when he'd arrived that morning. Like Jace, Seb was a player, but Jace knew that within a few weeks, he could wipe the floor with him. No one was better at this kind of stone-heartedness than him. No one.

The final bell was bliss. Jace was out of his seat and half through the door before it had even finished ringing. He pushed through the swarm of buzzing students and stood in the doorway of the cleaner's storeroom, pulling a map out of his backpack. He knew that the swimming tryouts were held in the sporting complex, on the other side of the grounds. Of course, that meant that he'd have to travel out of the block he was in, down behind… were those the science labs? He thought so; he'd had science that morning… Then through that little courtyard, loop around behind the outdoor oval then past the senior area, navigate through the maths staffrooms… Jace ran his fingers through his golden hair in frustration. He couldn't even figure out his way through this damn school! In a surge of pure determination, a desire not to be defeated, he clenched the map in his left hand and began speed-walking down the corridor, bumping into students as he went. It took him six corridors to admit that he was lost. He smoothed out the map that had gotten slightly destroyed in his fit of frustration, and began trying to make sense of it again, when a silky voice floated from behind him.

"Hi Jace," it teased, stretching the sound of his name.

Jace whirled, and saw a slight blonde-haired girl leaning against the wooden-panelled walls next to him. A sultry smile curved the tips of her slim mouth, and a spark danced in her blue eyes. Jace was pretty sure he recognised her, was it Kayla? Keeley…?

"Remember me? It's Kaelie."

Oh, that's right. She was that annoying girl he was next to in maths. Still, she was obviously after something. He was pretty sure he knew what _that _might be.

"Of course I remember you, babe." Jace casually stretched his arm up to rest against the wall, a few inches above her head. His other hand snaked into his pocket, and he completed the look with his trademark smirk. He leaned his head closer slightly as he whispered "How could I forget?"

Kaelie smiled and leaned in, and Jace took his hand out of his pocket to rest it lightly to rest it on her waist. As usual, he got no reaction on his part. Nothing that made this seem overly appealing, nothing that drew him towards her. He never did. Was he even supposed to? It was always like this, he'd meet a girl, they'd have their fun, and he'd feel no different when he left. He guessed he just didn't do love. He was too damaged, too lost inside to ever let anything out. Nothing would ever change it.

The Kayla girl tipped her head back and brought her lips against his, hard and hungry, pressing for more. Jace responded as normal, a procedure so regular it was drilled into his brain, like walking, or talking. Her hands rose to wrap in the curls at the base of his neck, tugging and pulling. Jace moaned and deepened the kiss, one hand on her waist and the other pushing against her lower back. Her hair fanned around their faces, smelling of… BANG!

They sprang apart like they'd been electrified as a crash rang down the hallway. Jace ran his hands through his hair and cursed when he saw Seb leaning against the wall next to the door he'd just violently thrown open, grinning ear to ear.

"Getting some are we, mate?" He leered.

Jace cursed again and strode down the hall and through the still swinging door, grabbing Seb by his collar, not giving another glance to the girl.

"What the hell are you doing? I was about to-"

"I know exactly what you were about to do. Dude, she's been following you since second period. Doesn't that spell desperate to you?" Jace rolled his eyes skyward as Seb entered lecture mode. Yeah, 'cause his standards were _so _high.

"You can do better than her, mate. Aim your sight a bit higher. And thank me for saving your sorry butt. I had a feeling you'd get a bit, umm, _side-tracked._"

Jace mumbled something unintelligible again as he and Seb continued to walk across the grounds, thankfully now in the right direction, toward the swimming complex. Who was he to tell him what to do?

Jace whistled as he entered the vast swimming centre. A high, domed roof stretched above his head, echoing the sound of the water lapping and splashing, a sound he had come to know so well. He couldn't help a grin teasing up the corners of his mouth and his shoulders relaxing from up near his ears. This was where he belonged. Where he took shelter from his messed up life; his haven, his own world. The water, magnifying the sound of each tiny bubble and splash, while masking the chaos of everything else. Even the madness inside his own head.

He was still grinning when he walked into the boys change room to an appreciative chorus from the other guys he'd already overtaken in the Order, was still grinning as he tugged on his skins and dug through his bag for his towel, was still grinning when he strolled out into his chlorine-filled heaven. The he saw a startling figure with masses of vibrant red hair, and the grin slipped from his face as fast as it vanished from hers.

Of course, it was Clary. Short, petite, pale, fiery tresses, emerald eyes. Pouting lips, arched eyebrows, hands on hips. Sexy, dangerous and beautiful. While coach Lightwood began the pep talk, she edged her way around the back of the crowd to stand next to him.

"So it's not enough that you fail at everything else, you've now got to come to the pool so you can fail here too?"

"I wouldn't say I fail at_ everything_ else," he replied slowly, a smirk masking his face. He liked the way she looked in her swimming skins; the tight black material showed off her curves and brought out her pale skin and bright hair.

Clary leaned closer, her lips almost touching his ear, making him shiver. He had to restrain himself from reaching to grab her waist like he'd do with any other girl; Clary was different, Clary was at the top. He had to bring her down, and propel himself upwards in the same movement. And now was not the time.

"I would," she whispered, smirked, and then took a step back as Coach Lightwood instructed them all to begin warming up. Damn, she was tricky.

Jace lined up behind one of the blocks and stretched his goggles over his eyes. He arched his eyebrows when Clary looked around at the other queues for lanes, then came and stood behind him. She stuck her tongue out at his condescending expression, folded her arms across her chest and began conversing with another girl from the swim team.

After Seb had dived into the pool in front of him, Jace climbed up on the block and took his position. The last thing he saw before he entered the water in a perfect streamline was Clary behind him, watching him curiously and disdainfully. He'd show her. He powered his legs up and down, then broke the surface and kept his head down for a dozen strokes. The feel of the cool water over his tense muscles was beautiful; it washed away the stress, the worry, the tension from the past day. It reminded him of being younger, and discovering swimming as a way to escape his broken life…

_A small golden haired boy sat on a dishevelled doona, head on knees, hands over ears. But he couldn't block the sound from the hall. His dad was drunk, he knew. It was always worse when he was drunk. _

"_You bitch, good for nothing, can't even hold a job. Pathetic, how are we going to cope now?" His father's voice was angry; his mother's shrill as a slap echoed down the hallway. Jace realised he was sobbing, tears running down his grubby cheeks and making a faint pattering as they dripped onto the doona._

_He couldn't take this anymore, he needed out._

_Creeping over to his window, he slowly edged up the mouldy glass. He swung a leg over the sill, then the other, and then he was perching precariously on a dead tree branch that scratched against his bedroom wall like the cold fingers of a ghost. The cool night air was comforting on his tear-streaked face. He could see the stars as well, and was lost for a moment in the beauty of each tiny pinprick of light. Beauty as he'd never known._

_A crash from inside his house shocked him back to reality. No doubt that had been another piece of his mother's china, lost in the anger of his father. Shattered and broken, just like him._

_Jace found his feet carrying him, down the grassy hill that concealed his shabby, whitewashed house and beyond the small copse of trees he played explorers in, to the lake. The full moon was reflected on the glassy midnight blue water, luminous and beautiful. Jace was struck by how beautiful the things around him were, things that were hidden by his sad life. Things that only took a bit to notice, but everything to see._

_Silently, Jace entered the water. It was shallow at first, but dropped off quickly. He submerged his head and relished in the silence it brought. His toes were claimed by the mud, and he giggled at how strange it felt. Huh, he giggled. That was a rare event._

_Before he knew it, he was swimming laps around the lake. Diving under the water, surfacing and taking a few strokes before diving under again, like some kind of dolphin. That's what he imagined he was, as he enjoyed this escape from reality. He lived here in this mysterious, peaceful realm of blackness, in the silence of the watery kingdom. Not his torn world, where nothing was right. Here, everything was perfect._

Swimming tryouts passed quickly, after that. Jace was surprised that he'd remembered that; most memories of his childhood had been blocked away by whatever method he could manage, especially memories of his mother. He still remembered what happened after his midnight swim in the lake that night; that dark memory of crawling back up the hill to police sirens and flashing lights. That was a memory that was burned into his existence, one he knew he'd never forget.

After that night, he'd closed off to the world. His father had become an alcoholic, only surfacing from the basement where he spent his time to walk to the fridge and fetch a few more bottles of oblivion, always smelling rank and unwashed.

His father hadn't been the same after his mother died. Instead of closing off like Jace had, he completely hid himself. Whether it was from guilt, mourning, or anger, Jace didn't know.

No one did.

Jace wasn't even sure what had happened to him after that night. He wasn't sure whether he'd closed off from the world, or the world had closed off from him. Either way, he was alone.

**Hmm, so Jace is pretty scarred too. And both he and Clary find swimming as an escape. You might be wondering how these random flashbacks tie in with the story, but I promise, they do!**

**And if anyone's wondering, yes, Jace and Clary do start getting closer, eventually. Duh. Of course, they're going to have to go through a whole lot of drama first!**

**Anyway, thanks for reading. Please, if there's anything you don't get, if you like it, if it sucks, if you think I'm slightly crazy, review! Tell me! Evil laugh!**

**Oh, and thanks SO much to everyone who has already reviewed or added story to favourite/story alert. You guys inspire the guilt that then forces me to write more **

**Thanks!**

**-ApproachingDarkness**


End file.
